


Siren's Call

by MerlinStella



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Ghosts, Horror, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Racism, Internalized Homophobia, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Short Story, Symbolism, but it kinda spoils it, catholic characters written by non religious people oof, just the way i like it, pretty cliched, there are probably more tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 08:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16929852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerlinStella/pseuds/MerlinStella
Summary: After Sister Mary Tremaine's husband, Hastie dies she is reminded of a girl she knew when she lived on the streets and before she became a nun. She will do anything to find the one true love of her life.





	Siren's Call

Sister Mary Tremaine was once a beautiful nun, loved by everybody.  Especially a man named Hastie. He promised her fame and fortune as long as she gave up her title as a nun, to which she agreed. Though, she still insisted that she'd be called Sister Mary by everyone well after the marriage. Hastie gave her long, extravagant gowns as well pearls to dawn herself with. It was never enough. The once skinny girl on the streets was now basically a queen, but still, Mary never loved Hastie. Her heart belonged to her long since forgotten friend from the gutter, Constance Stone. An orphan as well, to whom she shared her first kiss with when they were teens. Maybe that's why Mary went to be a nun, to escape from the guilt crawling on her back. Constance stayed behind, she never tried to fight her supposed sickness. Being attracted by both men and women. How she never felt the shame Mary felt, she'll never know.

 

 

That's when the pain began.

 

The last time Mary thought of Constance was when Hastie died, a smile carved on his lips for the women he thought loved him. All his wealth went to her. The night after the funeral was somber as she looked out the stained glass window in her new home, the air outside thick with fog. A quaint house on the hill, where no one would bother her. Internally she screamed for her to care about Hastie's death. She didn't. That night she tossed and turned, flashes of red and white hot pain covering her body. When she awoke, she found light claw marks on her skin.

This cycle continued. She feared that God was punishing her for falling from his grace, like a fallen angel. This made her feel contempt for her so-called god. Why would he curse her to be this way? It was just the way she was now, no praying would stop it. She had grown too old for that. In her thoughts, she couldn't stop thinking of Constance. Oh, how she missed her soft lips. How she wondered what kind of women she grew into. If she was even still alive. It was decided then, that Mary would trudge through all kinds of weather just to see her again. To see the woman she once loved. The women who made her feel alive.

 

Summer turned to winter, but Mary didn't care. She roamed all on foot to meet her lost lover. The claw marks grew intensely, and with that came bites and burns. She didn't care, she would literally and figuratively go through hell and back for Constance. One full moon night she met with a beach. Stripping off her shoes she let her feet feel the cool sand. She never experienced the feeling before. Next, she put her feet in the water. Blisters and burns being engulfed by water. As she closed her grey eyes, she hummed a bittersweet song that she found on her lips.

"Mary?" A voice from her side asked. The voice sounded so familiar. Like an old lullaby, you can vaguely remember. There, when she opened her eyes, was Constance. Her eyes wide with surprise and happiness. The two hugged, tears welling in their eyes. For until dawn, they spoke and caught up. When Mary got up to leave she insisted that Constance come but Constance paled, shaking her head. Constance looked deathly pale compared to when she was younger and when she had tan skin of an unknown origin. "No I can not, I must get back. You sleep now, I shall see you next time you come here." Constance said, her voice this time being more gargled almost like she was talking behind a waterfall.

 

Begrudgingly, Mary left. Finding an inn just around the corner. She found that night of restless slumber a little more tolerable as she dreamed of Constance. What a beautiful women she had grown into. In her haze, she never realized she had begun to scream in her sleep. The inn keep was the one to inform her. It was getting worse with each night. Not that Mary would care. She never cared. Once again she came to the same ocean and talked with Constance. They would talk about their life and what happened when Mary left. If only Mary noticed Constance changed her story every few seconds. Almost as if she was lying to make Mary happy. Night after night she came back, and the pain grew worse. If only she noticed that the full moon she was seeing seemed to last whole weeks. But the bliss from their talks was enough to keep Mary content.

 

One night after the weeks she spent at the inn which was draining all of her money away, the inn keep stopped her trance as she made way to her room. "What is up with you Sister Mary? You scream and cry all night but the next morning you act like you didn't! And what is with you going to the beach every night?"

 

"The pain I experience is not enough for me to care, the only thing I care about is Constance," she huffed, attempting to push the nosy man away.

 

His face fell, "Constance? Constance Stone?"

 

Mary traced her palm with her finger, feeling the wrinkles there. One could tell by her grey hair that she was old. Why she was all skin and bones by now. Slowly she smiled, a genuine smile, a thing she barely did with Hastie. "Yes." She dreamily sighed thinking about it. The inn keep grabbed her shoulders tightly, making strong eye contact. She tried to push him off but was unable to.

 

" _Constance Stone is dead._ "

 

For a second, Mary didn't believe him, the words falling upon deaf ears. Then her heart rate raced in her hollow chest to a worrying degree as she pieced it together. The pale skin, the always changing stories, the way she refused to come with her into the inn, her voice. Everything as making more and more sense by the minute.

 

"Some townsfolk drowned her in the beach, said she was sick and twisted in more ways than one..."

 

As the inn keep let go of her shoulders, Mary began to shake like a leaf in a tornado. She felt sick to her stomach and she didn't know what to do but run into her room, locking the door. Once in her room, she sunk into the cheap bed and sobbed, absolutely bawling her eyes out. The only love of her life was dead. Without her even being asleep Mary felt the tearing, biting and burning of her skin. They were deep now and as painful as her aching heart. She screamed as the inn keep tried to open the door. The key wasn't to be found so instead he grabbed the axe he kept in his office, only to be used for emergencies. Which this was. The screaming grew ear-shatteringly loud as he hacked at the door only for it stop when the door was finally broken down.

 

Sister Mary Tremaine laid in the cheap bed she kept coming to, night after night to see a ghost of the one she loved. No scars on her skin, assumingly dying of a heart attack. At least, this time, she and Constance could truly be together forever as the inn keep set her body to drift in the sea.

**Author's Note:**

> This was based off a drawing I made experimenting with another style, once it is done I will insert it in the fanfic at the end. I also took some light inspiration from Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, with the whole Hastie thing as well as the ending. I recycled some of my ideas for Maxine in my other fanfic End of a Nightmare.


End file.
